Give Them Back
by Kitty-Senpai
Summary: You follow your friend into another of her crazy antics but something doesn't go right and you soon rely on the help of Eren to change everything back to the way it was.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: If I owned this, would I bother writing fanfiction about it?**

**A/N: This is my first SnK fic. I don't know if this is an xReader or what. It is definitely AU. The setting is our reality, just so you know!**

"I don't think this is such a good idea…" you state wearily to your friend for the umpteenth time.

But, like all those previous attempts, she either failed to hear you, or just didn't care.

You quietly think back and wonder how the memories of mere seconds before added up to you being dragged behind your friend by the wrist. You may be being lugged behind her, but her serious expression is still clearly in place and visible.

As your thoughts wonder off, you daydream back to how this whole predicament started. 'Oh, yeah.' you think. Your friend was determined to sneak into the bar that her favorite celebrity attended. You think, ruefully, that you should have listened to everything she said, like the name of the celebrity and the full scheme, because after she exclaimed she would be leaving, you started day-dreaming, as usual, and only came back to reality when you felt a sharp tug at your wrist that would have dislocated your entire arm, had you not been used to her roughhousing.

"Do you remember the plan, (name)?"

"Um…well I… how do I put this…" you begin to stutter.

"Let me finish that for you, 'I'm so sorry, (friend's name)! I was drifting off into my own little world and left you to talk to the wall, like you've done so many times before!'" she sings in an extremely high-pitched voice.

"I-I sound nothing like that!" you shout in embarrassment.

A slight blush creeps up on you and you could have sworn you saw your friend smirk in the moonlight.

'Oh, she's gonna get it one day…!' you plot as you sit, fuming, on the cold cobblestone of the backwater village the two of you live in.

Only after the pain in your wrist subsides do you take the time to analyze your milieu. You can't help but jump at the few pairs of phosphorescent eyes that inspect your every movement. Only after a handful seconds do you recognize them as the eyes of stray cats.

Your eager eyes search the vast darkness for your friend.

"(Friend's name)!"

"Keep your voice down!" she hisses at you.

No sooner do you feel her hand cup your mouth to prevent any other sound from escaping your jaws. Man, do you hate it when she does this!

You lick her hand, and, as expected, she is appalled. She quickly lets go and resorts to wiping her hand on her pant leg, even though you two are as close as sisters.

"Did you really have to do that? You could have just asked and I would have let go!" she exclaimed in a hoarse whisper.

"First of all, how would you hear me when your hand was muffling my every word? Tell me that!" You shout, maybe a bit too loud.

You had always been the smarter, more logical one, so it wasn't rare to see her this puzzled. She was always a stereotypical hero that rushed into everything without a clear plan of action, like just now, because as soon as she opened her mouth to answer, the back door you had been taking refuge by suddenly opened and you fell flat on your back.

You opened your eyes, which you had closed upon instinct, and saw a pair of dilated pupils staring into yours.

"Well, what do we have here?" the man the pupils belonged to breathed into your silhouette.

"..." You frantically search for the right words so as not to raise suspicion.

You freeze.

Something isn't quite right about this man, let alone the two that appeared in the man's background.

That smell. The horrid stench of alcohol. You couldn't stand it. You never knew why, though.

No sooner did you notice the smell, you noticed the jackets they were wearing. They were beige with small but there were evident splatters of red. You didn't know what it meant, but the front pocket of the coat said simply _Titans._

But just as suddenly as the men appeared, your head started pounding. It was an unbearable feeling. As though your head was being stepped on by one of the men.

Then you remembered.

**Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Same as before!**

**A/N: Hi again! Hope you enjoy!**

At first, all you could see was a bright, colorless light. But when it died down, all you could see was red.

You tensed. All that red made you uncomfortable.

The walls were splattered with it. The floor was flooded in it. And all you could do was stare at the scene in front of you.

You slowly relaxed, sure you were alone when it hit you.

The stench of liquor was in the air and you felt like you were drenched in it, up to your neck.

You soon heard footsteps, causing you to be rigid once more. You nervously turned around and your eyes widened at the sight directly before you.

Your mother lay in the pool of crimson, the terrifying liquid pouring from a deep impairment in her side.

"Momma…" you whimper, fear and shock filling your voice.

You can feel a small stream of warm, sticky fluid run down your face and you reach towards your cheek, expecting to see blood, as vibrant as the now ruby walls.

But as you pull your hand back into view, you see tears.

'But,' you think, 'where's Papa?'

You swiftly search the room for your father, when your mind was finally able to comprehend the scene playing before you.

Your father was fighting off the men you assumed had brutally murdered your mother, seeing as they were covered in blood.

'No. Stop. Give her back to me.' You silently pleaded.

'I miss her so much. I want her back. Please.'

You wanted to release the rage that had filled your body on your attacker, but what could a six year old, defenseless little girl do? Nothing.

'No, stop. You'll hurt him.'

You felt a new flow of tears as the man fighting your father slowly gained the upper hand.

"Stop!" You shouted.

You snapped out of your paralyzed state and ran towards your father.

"Get back!" He yelled at you.

You stopped dead in your tracks. He had never yelled at you.

"You need to run, (name)! Get away from here! Go to Mr.(friend's last name)'s house and stay there!"

"No! I can't leave you! Momma's gone! Who else will I have?! Who else…" The last part of your noble speech came out just above a whisper.

"I'll be there as soon as I can, NOW GO!" You hear the care in his voice and understand that you are his top priority.

You quickly rushed out the door and were about to close it when you remembered to tell him you love him, because you didn't know when you'd see him again.

But as you spun to face him once more, you couldn't help but let out a half-tortured, half-anguished scream.

Because the vision you perceived was one which you hoped you would never have to.

You watched, in utter fury, as the man opposing your father landed a blow with the axe he was fighting with.

You witnessed as your father sent a meaningful look to you as the horrid man swung the axe and killed your father in one fellow swish, which was aimed for the jugular vein, as the weapon found its mark.

**Man, did you have a disturbing childhood.**

**Please review.**


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